


I Like That You're Broken, Broken Like Me

by whomsteveritmayconcern



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Kamakura Project, Canon-Typical Violence, Descent into Madness, Despair, F/F, Non-Abusive Junkan, Non-Binary Sagishi, Song: broken, Songfic, They/Them Pronouns For Sagishi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-08-29 04:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16737100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whomsteveritmayconcern/pseuds/whomsteveritmayconcern
Summary: I like that you're brokenBroken like meMaybe that makes me a foolI like that you're lonelyLonely like meI could be lonely with you





	I Like That You're Broken, Broken Like Me

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, I started this in October and meant for it to be really short. Obviously, I failed. I really liked Junkan's potential as a ship, but it was sorta ruined by DR 3 (which I do have a retelling of planned, bc that was honestly a shitshow that didn't do any character justice except Izuru in my opinion). Enjoy some non-abusive, non-one-sided gay.
> 
> I also really like the idea of Dark!Mikan.

Mikan Tsumiki hated parties. They weren't exactly her "scene". She didn't really even want to come, but Sagishi (since that was the name Ryota called them by) had insisted that she accompany them to a New Year's party being thrown by one of the underclassmen...Byakuya something-or-other.

Since Sagishi was the closest thing that she'd ever had to a friend, Mikan felt obliged to accompany them. She didn't mention the fact that they hadn't said anything to Ryota, who was probably holed up in his dorm, endlessly toiling on a masterpiece that would never be finished. In fact, her friend might not have even bothered mentioning it to the quiet boy. Ever since she had met the real Ryota Mitarai, she'd found the glaring differences between him and the impostor almost funny...

Still, Sagishi seemed determined that Ryota attend Hope's Peak for at least a part of the next year...and for some reason they seemed bizarrely interested in the underclassman host of tonight's party. They'd pulled him aside at the beginning of the evening and had been talking for quite some time now.

Sagishi was planning to borrow his identity, she knew. She couldn't imagine why the younger boy would let them, but she knew that within the next few days her friend would look almost completely different, and have completely alien mannerisms.

She wondered what it would be like to slip identities on and off as easily as clothing.

Scary, of course. But what did she have to lose?

Mikan gripped a glass of punch in her hand uneasily. She regretted coming to the party, with all the lights and the people...she didn't like people...

She was standing in the corner by the refreshment table, alone. 

 _I'm pathetic, aren't I,_ she thought, sighing and pouring herself another glass of punch. _Oh well. Parties mean people doing stupid things, right? And that means that someone is bound to get injured, right?_

She could only hope.

"Hey, fraidy-cat. Whatcha doin' blocking the drinks from the rest of us?" 

A tall blonde girl had seemingly materialized only inches away from her, trailed by a sullen-looking girl with short dark hair, who seemed to be filing her nails. "Well?" The girl tapped a long red nail to Mikan's nose, causing her to flinch away. "Would you mind pouring me some of that?"

Mikan was terrified. She wished Sagishi were there. "U-u-um, sure," she stammered, trembling. Mikan knew this girl's type...Some of the other girls in her class were the same way. The best she could hope for was to pour this girl her drink and spend the rest of her night trying to find a new place to wait for the party to end. She tried to steady her hand as she scooped liquid from the punchbowl into another cup, but just ended up shuddering and sloshing punch all over herself and the mysterious girl.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Mikan cried, bringing her hands up to her face. "I'm so sorry, I'm so clumsy, and stupid, and useless, and-"

"No." The blond girl frowned, and brought her hands to the sobbing purple-haired girl's hands, and pried them away from her face. "No, stop that."

Mikan hiccuped, and looked sideways, tears filling her eyes. "No, I ruined your blazer! I ruin everything! Just let me clean it up, like the worthless dog that I am!"

The taller girl looked at her with concern. "My blazer? It doesn't matter," she said, shrugging. "I can always send my sister to go grab another." She looked over her shoulder at the plain-looking girl, and her complete tone and mannerisms changed. "Mukuro," she snapped. "Go and fetch me another blazer, unless you're too useless to even do that."

The other girl rolled her eyes, and shoved what Mikan had previously thought was a nail file back into a loop on her belt, glinting as it caught the light.

It was a knife.

Mikan made a strangled yelp in the back of her throat, causing the other girl to focus on her yet again.

"I'm sorry for startling you," she said gently. "My name is Junko Enoshima the Ultimate Fashonista, and I'm in the 78th Class. Don't mind Mukuro, she's just a weirdo."

"I-I-I'm Mikan Tsumiki. Ultimate Nurse, and I'm in the 77th Class....it's really nice to meet you," she said quietly.

The other girl, Junko, smiled. "An upperclassman? Wow! I feel so honored to meet you, Tsumiki-senpai~" She broke off, giggling slightly. It was a strange laugh, and there was something in it that set off red flags in Mikan's mind. Still, there was something intoxicating about it all the same.

Mikan's face turned beet red. "Y-you don't have to address me like that. I'm not worth it."

Junko looked at her again, and her blue eyes seemed more open than they had been. She raised an eyebrow slightly. "Would you prefer I simply call you Mikan?"

Mikan's eyes widened and she attempted to take a step backwards, but ended up tripping over herself choking.

Junko laughed, but it didn't seem mean-spirited. She reached down one of her well-manicured hands to help her up, and the lighting of the room made her look almost like a statue of an angel. "Sorry again. I'll cut you a deal though--if I you call me Junko, I'll call you Mikan."

The other's face felt hot. This was embarrassing, this was improper, this....

This was nice in a way that nothing in Mikan's life had never been nice before.

"Deal," she whispered, taking the other's hand.

Junko beamed. "Splendid! Now let's go dance while we wait for my bitch of a sister to get back."

She promptly grabbed Mikan's arm and dragged her onto the dance floor as the opening chords to a song began to play.

 _I met you late night, at a party_  
_Some trust fund baby's Brooklyn loft_  
_By the bathroom, you said let's talk_  
_But my confidence is wearing off_

Mikan looked around the room in a moment of panic, worrying about her classmates seeing her dancing with this eccentric-looking girl wearing a blazer soaked in punch.

But what would it matter if they did notice? It's not like anyone had ever noticed her before. 

 _These aren't my people_  
_These aren't my friends_  
_She grabbed my face and_  
_That's when she said_

 _I like that you're broken_  
_Broken like me_  
_Maybe that makes me a fool_  
_I like that you're lonely_  
_Lonely like me_  
_I could be lonely with you_

Junko Enoshima was dancing with the shy purple-haired girl like she didn't care about anyone in the room or what they thought of her. Truth be told, she didn't. Still, Junko was a creature of impulse, and something about the upperclassman girl fascinated her. Maybe it was the darkness that Junko could see just below the surface in Mikan...another creature of despair that she'd love to get to know better.

Maybe she could put her plans for plunging the entire world into despair on hold, at least for one night.

 _There's something tragic, but almost pure_  
_Think I could love you, but I'm not sure_  
_There's something wholesome, there's something sweet_  
_Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet_

Junko could've been doing other things that night, or could've been scoping out her own classmates for her plan, but strangely enough...she didn't want to.

The rest of the night passed by with the two dancing only a few inches away from each other in the dim light.

Everyone at Hope's Peak knew Junko Enoshima. Despite the fact that she was only a freshman, no one could help noticing her wherever she went. Even the Reserve Course students loved her, and they generally seemed to resent the Main Course students. 

Boys and girls tripped over themselves to talk to her, to hold her books, just to be near her. Junko always seemed pleased with the attention, but never genuinely payed any mind to the adoring followers that seemed to flock towards her like she was royalty. They were just toys and playthings to her, and she seemed to think of them as lesser creatures.

 _These aren't my people_  
_These aren't my friends_

Shortly after the party, Mikan had stopped spending time with her classmates altogether. She hadn't seen Sagishi or Ryota in months. Her days seemed to be spent trailing behind Junko, never being noticed or acknowledged by the throngs that followed her everywhere she went. She was her shadow, but she was fine with that. Junko would smile and wave, maybe flirt with a few of her adoring followers, but she knew it was all a game to her beloved.

In private, the mask fell away. By that time, Junko had come clean about her true talent and plans. She'd admitted her plans for this school, and Mikan eagerly agreed to help her. Junko introduced Mikan to pointing her despair outwards, as opposed to letting it slowly erode her from the inside out, and Mikan enjoyed the feeling.

Then, for the first time, Mikan let someone die on her watch in the infirmary. Strangely enough, she didn't feel the fear or guilt that she had always imagined would plague her. She felt happier than she'd ever been.

Junko's long lashes were downcast in the dim lamplight of Mikan's room. Mikan hadn't invited her, but she'd known that she'd come. "I heard what happened today, pet." 

Her contacts were out and her eyes were closed, but Mikan already knew Junko's true eye colour; red, almost the exact shade of the deoxygenated blood staining Mikan's apron.

"I just did what you told me," Mikan sat down next to her on the bed, folding her hands in her lap, gazing down at her feet.

Mukuro was sitting in the shadows, cleaning her weapons. She never seemed to leave her sister's side, and simply followed her--as emotionless and cold as a statue. Most people were confused by Junko's wanting to have anything to do with her sister, but after Mikan had learned of her true plan Junko's reasons for having a highly trained killer on a proverbial leash at all times made sense.

Mikan chose to ignore her. She was just another pawn to Junko, despite their relation.

Junko opened her eyes a sliver. "You have free will, you know. It's more fun when I don't know what you're going to do."

Mikan frowned, absentmindedly braiding a small one of her beloved's long blonde pigtails. "But you'll always know what I'm going to do. You always know everything, about everyone."

The blonde-haired girl brushed her lover's hand away, and sighed. "Mikan."

Mikan's heart still lept every time she heard the way her name rolled off of Junko's tongue. Like most of her words, it was sharp and dangerous, but when she said her name.....there was something beneath it. Something softer, and more vulnerable. The huff of breath she would always push out afterwards, in exasperation.

 _Is it fondness?_ Even if it was, Mikan would never be able to convince herself fully. Her love had so many secrets, and was wrapped in so many conflicting personas and snide remarks. 

Still, in her most secret thoughts, she liked to think that the real Junko was like her, and maybe had the same feelings for her as Mikan had for Junko.

Even if she didn't, at least Mikan could be a tool, a distraction, a source of entertainment, or a weapon for her.

After all, Mikan was in love with her. She was willing to do anything.

Junko gently nudged her with a high-heeled boot. "Earth to Mikan Tsumiki. I'm trying to talk to you."

Mikan flinched, and began to open her mouth to profusely apologise. "Enoshim-"

"Ah," Junko silenced her. "What did I say about referring to me by anything _but_ my given name." Her mannerisms changed to that of someone much more mature to her typical self. "We don't do that in here. As for my boredom," she pouted her mannerisms changing yet again, "I still believe that you can surprise me." Her mouth split into an enormous grin again, and he pulled a crumpled paper out of her blazer pocket. "I've been working on this between classes. What do you think?"

It was a crudely drawn sketch of a plush black and white teddy bear.

"It's very nice," Mikan commented quietly.

Junko leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. "I'm glad you like it. Do you think you could make a prototype for me?" She made a gesture with her hands, drawing imaginary thread through the eye of an imaginary needle. "Y'know, put those stitching skills to work?"

"I'd be glad to."

_She grabbed my face and that's when she said_

_I like that you're broken_  
_Broken like me_  
_Maybe that makes me a fool_  
_I like that you're lonely_  
_Lonely like me_  
_I could be lonely with you_

Mikan sat with her beloved in the light of the roaring blaze that once was Hope's Peak, listening to the cacophony of screams coming from within.

_Life is not a love song that we like_

A few of her classmates, including Nagito Komaeda were writhing on the ground either laughing or crying at the beautiful sight unfolding before them. Junko was right...despair was beautiful.

_We're all broken pieces floating by_

The next two years were a blur. She barely saw her love, since she was so busy trying to spread despair. Junko was still convinced that spreading despair would make her happy.

No, happy was the wrong word for it. Junko just wanted to feel surprised.

Mikan idly wondered if Junko would ever feel surprised by anything as she emptied a syringe of neurotoxin into the bloodstream of a Future Foundation member.

She'd try again next time Junko came around.

_Life is not a love song, we can try_

_To fix our broken pieces one at a time_

But her beloved never came around again. She perished at the hands of some unworthy child. 

Junko had left measures in place in case of her death...A pair of small flash drives in a pair of her beloved robots.

 _She knew she'd die,_  Mikan thought as she grimly flagged down a Future Foundation helicopter. Still, almost as though some of her beloved's steely boredom had rubbed off on her, she stood her ground against the oncoming vehicle, and didn't move a hand to defend herself as she was shoved to the ground and restrained by the authorities. There was a sharp blow to the back of her head, and then everything was black.

Mikan woke up on a beach, but something felt missing.

She found it in a chill up her spine, and a hot pounding feeling in her head.

She found it in Ibuki's hospital room, and in the rope that she held between her hands.

She remembered.

She remembered her beloved.

How could she have forgotten?

A scalpel ripped through the flesh of the witness' neck, only to be covered.

She smiled at this.

She would see her beloved again soon.

_Have I surprised you now, Junko?_

_I like that you're broken_  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you  
I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you


End file.
